Valiant Tales
by Lindenharp
Summary: A series of 100-word drabbles about the people who lived, worked, and suffered on the Valiant during the Year That Never Was. Read them in order. since some characters reappear. UPDATE 8/23/09. Inserted new Chapter 7 Reporter's Tale which was missing.
1. The Accountant's Tale

I was an accountant in the USAF Quartermaster Corps until the new regime drafted me. When the rocket factories need steel, I decide which mills must overproduce; which workers are transferred across the world.

My ancestors were Crow Indians: nomadic warriors. Their wartime triumph was counting coup: touching an armed foe with a stick, leaving him alive but humiliated.

I manage small deceptions. Redirected shipments of rice. Disappearing truckloads of blankets. Guards' medicine going to an orphanage. If discovered, I'll be guest star on "Morning Execution". Until then, I honor my ancestors, counting coup on the Enemy of the World.


	2. The Engineer's Tale

You want to know how much I hate him? My hatred for our "Lord and Master" is hotter than the inferno that wiped out Japan, as hot and pure as the nuclear fire in the Valiant's engines. The bastard knows how I feel, but hatred from mere humans only amuses him, if he bothers to notices it at all. The whisper goes around that the other alien — the Doctor — will save us somehow. I don't believe it. It's not just that he's old and weak. How can he save us? He doesn't know how to hate.


	3. The Medic's Tale

I'm not _that_ Doctor, or even _a_ doctor, just a corpsman. The real doctor is Doc Patel, the Medical Officer. He oversees Mrs. Saxon's drugs, an' helps the Master's experiments with the prisoner belowdecks.

I do little stuff. Look after the Joneses. Stitch up lacerations, give coldpacks for bruises. Give sleeping pills to Turner in engineering, though they don't stop the nightmares.

Even though I'm not a real doctor, Doc Patel gave me his mug. Says he don't need it. Got a gold caduceus, and it says, _Primum non nocere_. What's that mean, anyway?


	4. The Aide's Tale

I love my job. Junior aide to the ruler of the entire bloody planet! When Mr. Saxon hired me – sorry, the Master, gotta get used to that – I felt on top of the world. Now I really am.

Some tossers call him a monster. I do not believe the rumors about massacres. He's eliminated war. No more nightmares about terrorists setting off nukes. And he's taking humanity to the _stars_.

Without this job, I couldn't afford my brother's gap year. He's chosen Kyoto. The Master says that Brazil is more interesting, but Jamie loves Japan, and I love my little brother.


	5. The Agent's Tale

I'm the Secret Service Agent who let President Winters be assassinated. Afterwards, I tried to kill Saxon, abiding by my oath to defend the Constitution "against all enemies".

He played the genial host. "Where are you from?"

I lied. "Grafton, Idaho."

Blue eyes froze my soul. "Denver, Colorado," he corrected.

You know what happened. The Valiant hovered low for an excellent view. An audiolink let me hear the screaming. I mumbled, "Merciful God," over and over, and hoped my execution would come soon.

Saxon said, "There is no God, but _I_ am merciful. I'll spare your life." And he laughed.


	6. The Cook's Tale

We pray not to be noticed. I'm a second shift cook; Carmela's a food service tech. Except for guards, we never see anyone from the upper decks. We don't wear our rings at work – hygiene regs – now, we hide them always. Satan hungers to destroy love, and That Man is his servant.

Soon, there can be no hiding. Carmela's getting bigger. I pray to Our Lord and His Mother, and every saint I know. Time speeds by. Tomorrow is the anniversary of the Calamity.

Carmela smiles at me. "Another saint for our prayers, _querido_. The patron of kitchen workers – Martha."


	7. The Reporter

**This should have been Tale #7, right after _The Cook's Tale_. I only noticed recently that I didn't upload it here. Sorry about that.**

After the takeover, my cameramen were drafted to broadcast his speeches. I volunteered to chronicle his regime.

"A _silent_ observer," he commanded. "Nothing written until I say." He provided a security bracelet for access to most of the ship. As it touched me, my mind froze.

Mocking laughter. "Sycorax slave-band. Inhibits specific brain functions."

I couldn't talk, couldn't write. To stay sane, I "wrote" in my mind. How else to endure the horrors I witnessed?

Now he's dead, I can write the story, but… it never happened. They offer me a pill to forget. Did the Sycorax create that, too?


	8. The Guard's Tale

It's the best job ever. Lots of chances for fun, just don't touch the Master's pets. Put a finger on the old guy – you die. The Freak is invitation-only. I'd love to watch a session. Techs are all off-limits. Pity. Turner in engineering looks like a poof who'd jump if you gave him a hard look. We can't even _talk_ to the admin staff. There's one real hottie -- snobby university bitch, but I bet I could make her moan. Maybe she'll make a mistake, piss 'im off. A bloke can dream, yeah?

Nobody calls Jimmy Stone a loser now.


	9. The Ambassador's Tale

I once read that philosophy provides complicated answers to simple questions.

"Who am I?" I _was_ the French ambassador to the United States, senior member of the _corps diplomatique_. Now I am personal chef to the master of Earth.

"Why me?" Perhaps to humiliate me. I lacked culinary training. Since I wished to live, I learned quickly. Giovanni, who cooks belowdecks, provided a book by Julia Child. I owe my survival to a Sicilian and a Californian.

"Why am I here?" The simple answer: President Winters invited me. The philosophical answer: perhaps to learn the difference between humiliation and humility.


	10. The Cameraman's Tale

The boss said, "Sean, Bill – you've got the _Valiant_ assignment!" We're still here, working. Himself broadcasts a daily greeting to his subjects. "Morning Execution" films here weekly.

Ever watch _Monstrous_? The characters are decent people whose own darkness turns them into monsters. That's the _Valiant_.

We split most jobs. I film the executions. Earthside, it's death by Toclafane. Here, the Master gets creative. I puked the first time; had nightmares for a week. I'm getting used to it. That's why I do it.

Thing is, I'm single, and older than Bill. Think I can cope better with becoming a monster.


	11. The Cosmetologist's Tale

President Winters said I got him elected. "Looks matter, sugar, and you make me look damn good." I started my career at Daggett's Funeral Home, prettying up death to give comfort to the living.

Saxon keeps me around so I can fix Lucy's black eyes for the camera. It's a useful talent here. Once, Carmela got slapped by that bastard Jimmy Stone. She was terrified her husband would notice, jump the SOB, and get shot.

Just like the old days at Daggett's, I hide ugly truth from folks who don't need to know it. The President was right: looks matter.


	12. The Maid's Tale

Jack offers me pills. "You can forget everything."

So much to forget. Nightmares of Martha, dying horribly. Will God ever accept prayers from my Judas lips? Clive: helpless, frustrated. Tish, cringing as the guards whisper, "_He'll give you to us, bitch_…"

Other memories shine in the darkness. Love rediscovered. Tish's grin, seeing us hug. Friends risking death for small kindnesses. Giovanni and Etienne cooked a Valentine's dinner with food Sam Yellowtail "liberated" from Special Supplies. Savanna did my hair; and silent, ghostly Meghan drifted into Hydroponics, returning with a crumpled fistful of violets.

No pills: remembering will be our victory.


	13. The Second Cameraman's Tale

This place changes people. I heard about a famous sculptor who used to take a chisel and a marble block, then chiselled away everything that _wasn't_ the statue. That's what this place does. It chisels away at people. Sean used to enjoy a pint and a laugh; now he never smiles. Stefan is drowning in hate. The guards look for excuses to give someone a thrashing. On the other hand, Clive and Francine are lovebirds again, and that ambassador has come down off his high horse.

I wonder if I'll ever get off this ship.

I wonder who I'll be.


	14. The Second Guard's Tale

We fall into two groups: UNIT and the Master's goons. Most of the UNIT guys act hypnotized. For crissakes, the President was _assassinated_, and they didn't blink. Makes me ashamed of my uniform. Somehow, me and a couple of others weren't affected. The Master doesn't believe anybody can resist him.

I keep my head down. Thank God, the goons get the "fun" assignments. Yesterday I helped escort Jack Harkness belowdecks. I kicked him, but pulled the blow. He winked.

I know the stories about the Doctor. He'll get us out of this. When he does, I'll help redeem UNIT's honor.


	15. The Cargo Pilot's Tale

My gran was from Devon. I've got smuggler's blood. After every trip Earthside, I bring back news. I don't carry messages, or mention the Resistance. That would just earn me fifteen minutes of fame on "Morning Execution". I tell the Londoners Big Ben still rings in his tower. I tell Etienne the trees are green along the Champs Elysees. I don't mention the Master's statues on Nelson's Column and the Arc de Triomphe.

The guards wink at "personal imports": Moon Pies for Savanna, Jaffa cakes for Bill, _turrón_ for Carmela. They never notice the most dangerous contraband of all: hope.


	16. The Shuttle Pilot's Tale

My job's important: safely transporting the Master and his administrators between the _Valiant_ and Earth. I also transfer criminals who've earned personal attention from the one they betrayed. _(I must obey the Master_.)

Time for the pre-launch sequence. I examine every readout. The new co-pilot performs another check. Dunno what happened to the other bloke. Re-education, they said. _(I must obey the Master.)_

As my hands move, the console lights reflect off a gold ring on my left hand. Don't remember where I got it. Perhaps I should remove it, so it doesn't distract me. (_I must obey the Master.)_


	17. The Mechanic's Tale

My job is about little things. Even here somebody has to change lightbulbs, tighten valves. It keeps me from thinking about stuff I miss, like mowing the grass – my least favorite childhood chore. Now I'd do anything to feel the sun, smell that sweetness.

The guards know I'm the go-to guy for problems like a rattling ventilator in your bunkroom. I get favors in return. Coffee. New socks. The best was from a shuttle guard: a square foot of turf from the runway median. I water it regularly. Saturdays, I trim it with scissors.

My life is about little things.


	18. The Waitress's Tale

'Cept for the aliens, it was like any VIP party. Pass the canapés, pour the champagne. I've served Cristal and lobster raviolis to billionaires. I've been puked on by a Duchess. Had £5 stuffed down my shirt by an aging rocker in £300 shoes. It's what "the help" gets paid for, right?

I'm still a waitress, serving the Master's special guests. I recognize some of them. Sometimes the champagne is vinegar and bicarb. Sometimes the paté is cat food with chilli sauce. They always thank me politely. I don't get paid now, but I enjoy my work a lot more.


	19. The Programmer's Tale

I remember our Hanukkah candles flickering on the windowsill, "proclaiming the miracle," Dad said. He told the ancient story: the tyrant desecrating the Temple, slaughtering those who resisted. After the tyrant was overthrown, one flask of oil for the holy lamp lasted eight days. For me, the oil symbolizes the true miracle -- the restoration of freedom.

I have no candles here, only bottlecaps filled with salad oil that Carmela gave me, and wicks made from a rag. If the Tyrant discovers my "crime", I may die.

I don't care. Sometimes, you have to proclaim the miracle _before_ it happens.


	20. The Kitchen Server's Tale

Tonight is _Nochebuena_. We lowly ones will "feast" on potatoes. Giovanni is making chips. (I must save some for Jake. Jews eat fried potatoes on their holiday.) Sweets? The _turron_ that Bob smuggled for me, broken into morsels. Then we sing. I learned a French carol for Etienne.

So much to do! Savannah's jacket needs mending. I can embroider flowers over the rip.

We live in fear of a wicked king who slaughters the innocent. Into such a world Our Lord was born. I thank Him for all my dear friends. I only wish I had gifts for them.


	21. The Weapons Officer's Tale

Took me a while to get acclimated. My predecessor wouldn't train me. Idiot had scruples about random civilian targets. Gutsy bastard, though -- he didn't scream until the very end.

I played with some really cool toys before the incident that got me discharged, but nothing compares to this stuff. UNIT incorporated alien technology. Before the strike, we dive low. The Master likes to watch. I can almost smell the smoke.

It's December 31. The Master is drinking champagne. There's another human custom he wants to observe, so we're in low orbit, following midnight around the globe.

I love fireworks.


	22. The Wife's Tale

Of course I love him. He's exactly the sort of man that I was always destined to love, only... more. More attractive, more charismatic, more powerful. I knew it even before he revealed who he truly is, before he showed me the truth that lies at the end of everything.

When I am with him I am so aware of being small, and human, and insignificant, like a mote of dust beside a mountain. Every day, I feel myself shrinking. Someday, I will shrink down to nothingness. Then -- finally -- I will feel safe.

Of course I love him.


	23. The Other Doctor's Tale

The Master calls me "Doctor Patel" with a sneer, as if only his compatriot deserves the title. I took my degrees at Edinburgh and Harvard; nevertheless, I swallow the insult for the sake of all I can learn.

The test subject he calls "The Freak" is remarkable. I must perform more experiments. If I can replicate this accelerated healing in humans...

I have a coffee mug that says "Primum non nocere" -- an outdated platitude! Medicine is never without harm. Drugs have side-effects; surgery violates the body. I will give the mug to my corpsman. I no longer need it.


	24. The Laundry Officer's Tale

We work around the clock. Hundreds of people, multiply by two uniforms each, add linens -- it's a mountain.

I don't get out much. I bunk here. My "assistants" -- slave workers -- fetch food from the mess. Poor buggers don't speak English, and can't gossip. Still, I know things. Dirty clothes tell stories about contraband gin, and female company on cargo runs. There are darker sins. Certain uniforms are repeatedly spattered with blood. I return them spotless... and keep a list of names. Someday, justice will prevail. Beneath the immaculate uniforms, the stains on their souls will be seen.


	25. The Stowaway's Tale

Been gate-crashing since I was sixteen. Sneaked backstage at a concert, delivering pizza to the stagehands. The trick is blending in. Nobody really looks at waiters or janitors.

I love being "backstage", spying on the rich and famous. Makes me laugh inside, 'cos they don't know my secret. When I heard about the Toclafane, I had to go see. Tough job, getting on board, but an old mate helped out.

He's dead now, and I'm trapped. It's hard to hide from the guards, harder to steal food. The bastards will prob'ly catch me soon, but 'til then, I'll keep laughing.


	26. The Slave's Tale

I was twelve when the raiders came. They killed most of my family, and made my little brother a soldier. My sisters-- I won't think about that. I became a slave. There were many of us. One cried. They cut his tongue out. Another ran. They killed him... eventually. I didn't cry, even during whippings.

I rejoiced when the Master's soldiers took _everyone_ as slaves. They brought two of us to work in the laundry. We eat good food. Our overseer is strict, but he never beats us.

I hope the Master lives forever, so I never return to Earth.


	27. The Second Aide's Tale

These youngsters and their enthusiasm! A strong work ethic is desirable, but fervour is no substitute for efficiency. Yesterday, Grenfell proposed moving 3000 work units from Chongqing to Dazhou. Low transport costs, true, but he overlooked better options. Preuilly is a trouble spot. Relocating 3000 units would empty the town, leaving only the unproductive for the Resistance to waste resources on.

The female assigned for my use lacks enthusiasm. I will requisition another. The Master would undoubtedly kill her; I cannot bear to do that. Radiation Plant 2178 needs replacements. Sending the female there is a much more efficient solution.


	28. The Second Engineer's Tale

Always liked taking things apart to see how they worked: a lawnmower, electric kettle, Gran's cuckoo clock. At school I liked maths and science best. Everything has an answer; you just have to figure it out, find the right equations. When UNIT assigned me to the _Valiant_, I was bloody thrilled. Alien technology, like nothing I'd seen before, but there were equations to explain it.

I don't sleep much. In my dreams I see Japan in flames, smell burning flesh. God, I need to understand, need this to make some kind of sense.

What are the equations that explain Hell?


	29. The Consultant's Tale

I'd been expecting the invitation ever since the fateful day when he took over the Earth. His own personal shuttle escorted me to the _Valiant_.

"Do you know why I've sent for you?" he purred.

I tossed back my pale saffron hair, wanting to show myself unafraid, even of an omnipotent alien from another world. "Yes," I mused.

His dark chocolate eyes locked onto my cerulean orbs. "Then, your new lab awaits, my dear Professor--"

I stopped him with an elegant wave of my hand. "Although I have six advanced doctorates, I prefer informality. Just call me Marie Suzette."


	30. The Sergeant's Tale

Top priority? My men's safety. Too many techs with uncertain loyalties. Too many civilians trapped here since The Day.

I worry about a hothead with a spanner, about a cook grabbing a cleaver if someone touches his girl, about a raw recruit hesitating 'cos the enemy looks like Uncle Harry.

So... special drills. "Morning Execution" always has extra prisoners. I offer a knife and a promise: draw blood from an unarmed guard, walk off this ship alive and free. Nothing cures cockiness like getting sliced by a fat-arsed accountant.

Always keep my promise. Emergency Airlock 17 is just next door.


	31. The Plumber's Tale

I'm a steam boiler engineer. The arsehole guards call me 'the plumber'. They can't 'discipline' the techs, but they've got ways to make life miserable for a bloke who works all over the ship. Complaining would just make it worse.

The idiots joke about dripping taps. Steam makes them think of kettles, but at 50 PSI steam becomes a different beast. Today, Jack Harkness broke a pipe and aimed it at a guard. The bastard's alive -- pity, that -- covered with second-degree burns.

I could have warned him: anything under pressure is always more dangerous when it gets loose.


	32. The Masseuse's Tale

I arrived shaking with terror, but the alien Master looked surprisingly human. "Strip," he told me. I have certification. I do not give _those_ massages. Still, I am unashamed of my body, and I wish to live. He studied me with something colder than lust. Something... familiar.

During the massage he was motionless, requesting nothing improper. After, he said, "Get dressed". He told the guards, "She'll do. Cell 23-B." I finally understood his look. My uncle Haakon trains horses. He tests every new animal that enters his barn.

They led me away, and despite my clothing, I felt naked.


	33. The Dishwasher's Tale

This isn't the gap year I planned. At first, it was brilliant. I played guitar in Barcelona, picked olives in Provence, learned some Arabic curses, and washed dishes in a Venetian trattoria. That last bit saved my life after The Day, no lie. I would've been sent to a slave camp, but they needed someone up here who could operate a temperamental WKT1200 and scrub fifty-litre stockpots.

It's not bad. I'm about as safe as any human can be, but I want to get Earthside again. What I learned during my gap year: cleaning up messes is an important job.


	34. The Captain's Tale

This year was a bizarre dream. My life in UNIT was already strange, commanding a vessel out of _Star Wars_.

Then Saxon conquered Earth. My ship became the dictator's fortress, staffed by thugs and slaves. It seemed... normal. I obeyed orders until the Doctor broke the Master's spell.

Don't give a damn what happens to me. I expect to be tried for collaboration. But there are others — military and civilian — who resisted. They risked death to do what was right.

I'll testify: "Honour them. I failed my duty to my ship, but in the darkest of times _they_ were Valiant."


End file.
